


Game Night

by cmk418



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28004046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmk418/pseuds/cmk418
Summary: A witch, a key, a demon, and a vampire play an innocent game of charades, but can the clues to the game be read another way?
Relationships: Tara Maclay/Dawn Summers
Kudos: 2





	Game Night

**Author's Note:**

> AU - Dawn is over eighteen, attending UC Sunnydale and living at home with Tara. Buffy was never resurrected. Shortly after Buffy's death, Willow left Sunnydale to finish her education out of state.

Dawn drew a clue from the pile, looked at Tara, grinned, and then held up three fingers.

“Three words,” said Tara.

“All About Eve,” yelled Clem.

“She hasn’t given the category yet. It could be ‘Little House on the Bloody Prairie’ for all we know,” said Spike.

“Is that a television show or a book?”

“Yes,” said Tara. “But it’s more than three words.”

“A-HEM,” inserted Dawn.

“No talking,” berated Spike.

Dawn made the motions of someone turning the crank on a movie camera.

“Movie,” the three said at once.

Dawn crossed her arms in front of her and then spread them wide. She repeated the motion several times.

“No goal!” shouted Spike.

“That’s only two words,” Clem pointed out helpfully.

“Well, then, ‘Not a Goal’.”

“It’s just the first word, Spike,” said Tara. She looked to Dawn for confirmation. “It is just the first word, isn’t it?”

Dawn nodded.

“Well, then ‘No’. And you could have just shaken your head for that clue. There’s no need for the drama, Ducks.”

“I don’t think it is ‘no’,” said Tara. “Go on to the next word, baby.”

Spike raised an eyebrow at the endearment. 

Dawn put her thumb and index fingers close together.

“Little word,” said Spike. “Or.”

“And,” supplied Tara.

“Antidisestablishmentarianism,” offered Clem.

Three incredulous looks settled on Clem.

“What? Where I come from, it is a little word.”

Spike shook his head. “The.”

“A,” said Tara.

Dawn clapped her hands and pointed at Tara.

“No showing favoritism,” Spike commented.

“Blank a Blank,” mused Clem.

“I still say ‘Not a Goal’ would suffice.”

“It’s not a movie!” yelled Dawn.

Spike threw up his hands. “Well, if you’re going to give it away. I guess the game is over.”

Dawn sighed loudly. Tara dissolved into a fit of giggles, trying to get the words out. “It’s… she’s…”

“It’s not ‘Not a Goal” and it’s not ‘Not a Movie’,” said Dawn through gritted teeth.

“Talking’s against the rules,” pointed out Spike.

Dawn raised a finger.

“Didn’t we already do the first word?” asked Clem.

“That is, most definitely, not ‘first word’.”

Dawn stuck up three fingers, grinned at Tara, and then made a swinging motion with both arms.

“A bat!” exclaimed Spike while Clem nodded.

Dawn shook her head then slapped herself on the ass.

“What the hell?” asked Spike.

“Spanking,” said Clem.

“Paddle,” supplied Tara, quietly enough for Dawn to hear her and signal that she’d gotten the correct word. “Without a Paddle.”

“What’s that?” asked Clem.

“Apparently, a movie of some sort that Tara and Dawn have seen.”

“I haven’t seen it,” said Tara.

“How’d you guess it then?”

“I know the title, but there’s that actor in it that annoys me. Anyway, it seemed to fit.”

“So did ‘Not a…’”

Dawn slapped a hand over Spike’s mouth. “Give it a rest, Spike. You’re just upset because the girls rule. Again.” She high-fived Tara and stuck out her tongue at Spike.

“You two probably go over your little girly shorthand over pancakes and orange juice every morning.”

“There’s no shorthand,” said Tara.

“Face it, Spike. We’re just better than you.”

“Let’s go another round then,” challenged Spike.

Tara looked at Dawn.

Dawn looked at Tara.

There _was_ shorthand.

Tara stood up from the sofa and began walking Spike and Clem slowly toward the door. “Actually, I’ve got to open the shop and Dawn’s got…”

“A big economics test.”

Spike looked from Dawn to Tara. Dawn’s face was the picture of innocence. All wide-eyed and looking like the girl who used to be able to talk him into anything. Of course, now the “anything” seemed to be a nice tumble with her flatmate. Idly, he wondered if Tara was able to resist those looks, or if it was the looks that won her over in the first place.

“All right, we’re going. But next week, we’re going to beat you at Scattegories.”

“Keep dreaming,” said Dawn with a laugh, closing the door behind him. She turned to face Tara, back flat against the door. “I thought they’d never leave.”

“You say that every week,” said Tara, grinning and moving in to press her body against Dawn’s.

“It must be Buffy’s Slayer genes rubbing off on me because beating vampires makes me either hungry or horny.”

Tara stepped away from her. “There’s leftover pizza in the fridge.”

Dawn took a step forward, encircling her arms around Tara’s waist. “I think I’ll take what’s behind door number two.”

“Don’t you need to study for Economics?”

“I was thinking I could start with some practical experience with supply and demand.”

“Hmm.”

“Like right now, I need you to kiss me.”

Tara lowered her head and brushed her lips softly against Dawn’s.

“Just one?”

“No.”

Tara kissed her again, delving her tongue in when Dawn’s lips parted.

“Just there?”

“No.”

Tara’s hands buried themselves in Dawn’s hair and pushed in back from her face as she dropped tiny teasing kisses up the column of Dawn’s neck.

“How’s that, baby?”

“Mmm,” purred Dawn.

“But there was something else you wanted, wasn’t there?” Tara asked, taking Dawn’s hand and leading her upstairs to their bedroom.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Dawn hissed, a combination of pain and pleasure, as Tara’s hand hit its mark. Sensation, like an electric current, radiated out from the point of contact, making her skin tingle and feel alive. There was no room for doubt, no sense of disappearing or drowning in the dark when Tara did this. She was alive, she was here. In this body, at this moment, she was fully and completely human.

And if she felt that slipping away, she needed only to whisper one word.

“Again.”


End file.
